


Boa Constriction

by Fairleigh



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Biology, Getting Together, Humor, IN SPACE!, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-11-06 15:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17941928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/pseuds/Fairleigh
Summary: We started calling them Boas because that’s what they look like. Four meter long boas. The fluffy, feathered kind you wear in retro cabaret acts, that is, not the constrictor snakes, and they come in two genders and a veritable candy store variety of colorful hues.





	Boa Constriction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/gifts).



ALIENS! The sentient lifeforms from another planet variety of aliens, I mean.

Yeah, yeah, I know exactly what you’re thinking. I’ve seen the movies and the tv shows too, okay? Think “aliens,” and you’re probably imagining something that’s bipedal and basically human, except perhaps for the skin that’s been painted in a definitively non-human color and possibly the addition of a garish prosthetic nose. Either that, or — and I’d rate this possibility as somewhat less likely than the first — maybe if you’re imagining something weird and scary with lots of slick, squirmy tentacles and/or too many sharp teeth.

So I don’t think anyone of sound, reasonable mind could’ve anticipated the Boas.

Although, on second thought, come to think of it …

Remember that classic episode of the original _Star Trek_ — what was it called, again? Oh, right. “The Trouble with Tribbles.” Little did they know back then that they may’ve been onto something there.

Funny how these things end up working out, isn’t it?

Anyway, I haven’t properly introduced myself yet, have I? My sincerest apologies. My name is Jae, and I’m a NASA-accredited astronaut employed on the U.N. deep space diplomatic vessel _Aspire_. This is my third tour of duty in the Facilities Management Division of the General Services Department.

Yeah, yeah, I know exactly what you’re thinking, and you’re absolutely, one hundred percent right: I’m a janitor. Spaceships, even — or perhaps _especially_ — flagship vessels like the _Aspire_ , need to be kept clean too, okay?

So you can just call me Jae the Janitor, if you like. I don’t mind. After all, if I hadn’t been doing my job and flushing the ventilation shafts that day, I would never have met … _him_.

~*~*~

The Boas have their own name for their species, of course, but they’re so amiable and easygoing that they’ve adopted our nickname for them and readily answer to it in their formal and informal interactions with us. It’s a very good thing, really, since we’re physiologically incapable of reproducing their speech without machine-assistance, and vice versa.

We’re entirely capable of hearing each other, though, which is exceedingly lucky given our respective narrow ranges of audible frequencies, and virtually all Boas resident on the _Aspire_ have become passively fluent in English, which is another very good thing because I’ll have you know that I tried taking an elementary level class in Standard Boanese once and alas, it’s still sounds like so much cooing, chirping, and purring to me.

Yeah, right. Well. Anyway.

At least the species name “Boas” is truth in advertising. You’ve seen the vids, undoubtedly, and what they say is true: We started calling them Boas because that’s what they look like. Four meter long boas. The fluffy, feathered kind you wear in retro cabaret acts, that is, not the constrictor snakes, and they come in two genders and a veritable candy store variety of colorful hues.

That’s all basic stuff. There are a couple of things about Boas which are not as widely known. I might as well share them with you now.

First, the bodies of Boas are bilaterally symmetrical, like ours, but not lengthwise, like a snake on earth but rather perpendicularly down the middle. This means that much of a Boa’s business, like the mouth and the brain, are in the middle, and much of the rest of their bodies consists of paired sets of internal organs in their two “tails.”

Second, you don’t just see Boas floating in all the vids because they’ve been filmed in zero-g environments like the _Aspire_ ’s. As a matter of fact, their bodies are almost lighter than Earth-standard air. A slight puff of breeze would be enough to blow them away if Earth’s gravity weren’t already enough to crush the life out of them. That’s why, by the way, you can only meet a Boa in space.

That’s also why, if they’re not careful, Boas have a lamentable tendency to get stuck in ventilation shafts …

… and that’s where I, Jae the Janitor, get to come to the rescue.

~*~*~

A Boa stuck in a ventilation shaft is no laughing matter. Several have died outright from the injuries they sustained, and Bob himself came very close to meeting whatever Maker makes living, thinking feather boas.

As it was, he had to have ten centimeters off of the tip of his left side tail amputated. This is why I nicknamed him “Bob.” It’s short for “Bobtail” … ha ha ha.

Eventually, though, Bob the Boa made a full recovery, and he was, much to my chagrin, exceedingly grateful and wanted us to become friends.

More the friends, actually.

When male Boas want to mate, they twine their sinuous bodies around a female’s and hold their hatching pouches in position, open and ready for her eggs, which they will then fertilize internally and incubate. They’re willing to stay attached to their chosen female for days, even weeks — however long it takes for them to have their chance at making the next fluffy generation of Boas.

I won’t go into the mockery I endured from my colleagues in General Services when they saw me going about my business day after day wearing Bob around my neck like, well, a feather boa. He’s a uniform shade of pale, powder-puff pink, did I mention? Like cotton candy. Very manly.

I tried to reason with him, of course. “You do realize that embarrassing a man in front of his workmates usually _isn’t_ the way to his heart, right?”

Bob just purred and stroked my cheek. I think he was saying something like, “I want to have your babies.”

“You do realize that that’s not going to happen, right? We’re not reproductively compatible.” I’ll admit I was confused.

Bob just chirped and cooed and stroked my cheek some more. The mechanics didn’t seem to concern him. I think he was saying something like, “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Oh, did I mention? Boas are wonderfully warm and soft to the touch. Now, it’s generally considered rude to touch one without permission — they’re sentient lifeforms, not pets! — but I’ve heard it said that stroking a Boa is as close as an astronaut can ever get to _actually_ experiencing Heaven.

His persistence did win out, eventually, and one night, I wore Bob to bed with me.

And, ahem. Well. Talk about a revelation.

That was the first of many utterly divine nights, and we’ve been happily “intertwined,” as the Boas like to say (rough translation), ever since. On the basis of firsthand experience, I would amend the received wisdom about Boas to the following: _Making love to_ a Boa is as close as an astronaut will ever get to _actually_ experiencing Heaven.


End file.
